Illegal In All Fifty States
by GirlDrinkDrunk
Summary: A prelude to 'Viagra'. This way to the porn.


I never intended to do a lead up story to Viagra, until someone on another board wormed the idea into my head.  
If you've read Viagra and think it's best as a stand-alone, don't read any further. If you're here for the porn, however, let me lead you to the buffet table...

"I need to be inside your sweet ass. Finish the game so I can fuck you up against the Impala." Message delivered, Sam simply turns and walks towards the front door.

Dean is frozen to the spot as he lets Sam's words loop in his head. Those words alone would have been like a firm caress over his skin. Those words, accompanied by the low growl of his voice, turns that caress into pure, stripped-down sex, and his cock notifies him (in damned near record time) that not _all_ of him is frozen.

With his hands around the cue and the handle resting against his boot, Dean turns his head in time to see Sam pull open the front door and disappear outside. _In another twenty seconds, he'll be leaning against the car, waiting for me. It wouldn't even cross his mind that I might not follow him…'cause he knows me too well_.

"Dean."

He turns back to the table, to find his opponent looking at him.

"You're up."

Dean fights back the laugh that wants to break free. _You have no idea_. "Uh, I gotta go. Sorry." He lays the cue along the rail closest to him and looks back up to the puzzled frown on the man's face. "Keep the money." When the frown turns to surprise, Dean turns and heads for the door. _No offence, pal, but I got me a date with a six-foot-four, muscle-bound, gorgeous man, with nine inches of all-mine, just waiting to pound my ass against my beautiful car_. A broad – and dirty – smile shapes his mouth as he reaches for the door handle.

Sure enough, Sam is leaning against the trunk, his hands propped next to him on the metal, and his hip cocked lazily as he patiently waits for Dean to come to him.

"You gonna jump my bones here in the parking lot, Sammy?" He asks with a cheeky smile.

"Keys," is Sam's only answer, holding out his hand. There is no smile on his face, just focused intent, trying to keep his cock from taking control of the situation just long enough to find somewhere private.

Dean only hesitates for a second before fishing the keys out of his pocket and throwing them the four feet to Sam. He then makes his way to the passenger side and gets in.

Sam doesn't say a word as he reverses the car and then puts it in drive, letting the gravel fly and the front wheels spin momentarily as he peels out of the lot.

This silence has Dean a little anxious, but Sam doesn't let him contemplate it too long before he pulls into a poorly lit truck rest stop along the side of the road, barely a mile away from the bar. Reversing the car to the far end, until its paintwork helps conceal them to all but the most curious of people, Sam then shifts it into park and cuts the engine.

"Out," Sam says simply, opening his door. He doesn't wait for Dean to follow, knowing he will.

Dean walks around to the back to where Sam is in the process of removing his jacket.

"If you're not naked in twenty seconds, I might just fuck you in whatever you're wearing." Sam follows up that statement by opening the top button on his shirt before grabbing the material behind his collar and stripping it off.

Dean has the presence of mind to believe exactly what he said and, as a result, eagerly complies. Starting with his jeans, he nearly breaks the zip in his haste, before following with his boots, toeing them off to step out of his jeans. Dean's t-shirt and over-shirt barely have time to make contact with the dirt before Sam is advancing on him. Dean is stopped in his attempt to rid himself of his boxers.

"Time's up. Turn around."

Dean looks at the man that is his little brother; his little brother who has a strange look in his eyes. He hasn't seen _this_ Sam before, and he doesn't know whether to be unnerved or turned-the-fuck-on. He settles for a healthy serve of both, punctuated by his thumping heart and already straining erection. No sooner has he turned to face the trunk, then he feels Sam's fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and drag them down roughly. When he lifts his feet to step out of them, he feels Sam's hands on his calves, and looks over his shoulder to find Sam on his knees behind him.

Sam senses the movement and looks up. "Eyes forward," he says softly but with authority. Again, Dean complies. "And spread your legs," he adds.

Opening his stance, he moves closer to the car and places his hands, palms down, on the trunk, hitching his breath as the move brings his cock in brief contact with the cool metal. The moment Sam spreads his ass cheeks and licks his puckered hole, however, Dean's hips push back, and the contact of the metal is long forgotten.

"Jesus, Sam…uhhhh…"

Sam is dimly glad at this moment that he wears baggy jeans, although his raging hard-on still objects to the restriction as it pushes against the denim. Luckily, his plan is to rid himself of said denim, just as soon as he's finished rimming his brother's ass. That thought exacerbates his current problem and he has to spread his own legs – as he's kneeling on the hard dirt – to ease the discomfort.

Sam's tongue laps at Dean's hole with a single-mindedness that makes Dean keen in his throat with need. "God, Sammy, lick me open," he says desperately, continuing to thrust his ass back, seeking more pressure. The flat sweeps of Sam's tongue over and around Dean's opening quickly change to insistent, hard jabs inside his ass, and Dean groans loudly at the perfectly-dirty feeling of it, as well as Sam's eagerness to taste him. When he feels Sam's lips close around his opening and suck on every withdrawal of his tongue, Dean groans again and tries to push himself further against Sam's face.

"Slut," Sam remarks briefly, continuing to keep Dean spread open for his hungry mouth.

"UhhhhSammy…only for you, baby. God, bring me off or fuck me, but do it now."

Sam loves Dean's desperate pleas, and is all too eager to grant that wish. With a biting kiss to Dean's cheek, Sam gets to his feet and starts to undress.

Dean turns around and drags his eyes down Sam's torso, before stopping his gaze on Sam's big fingers, suddenly nimble and surprisingly steady as he unbuttons his jeans.

Before Sam pushes the denim down over his hips, he reaches into the back pocket and lifts out the small tube of Wet. "Hold this," he says casually to Dean and waits 'til Dean takes it. The smile Dean gives him in return mirrors Sam's thoughts. Pushing both denim and cotton down his legs, Sam then steps out of them and leaves them sitting in the dirt, too preoccupied to care about something as insignificant as clean clothes. As a naked Sam steps forward and into Dean's space, he looks at the tube and then at Dean. "Care to do the honours?"

Dean's smirk is his answer. Flipping the lid, he coats both hands with the gel and reaches to enclose his fingers around Sam's hard length. Then, using both hands, Dean slicks him thoroughly. Raising his eyes to Sam's, he says, conversationally, "Gotta make sure I lube you up just right; you've got a big cock, Sam, and I've got a tight ass."

Sam knows that Dean is trying to provoke him into losing control and, those words, accompanied by Dean's hands, are working very nicely towards that goal. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes momentarily, Sam delights in Dean's touch. He knows, however, that it would be too easy just to let Dean bring him off like this, and he wants so much to come apart while he's inside his lover. That thought is the motivation to move, and he opens his eyes to look into the depth of Dean's expression. Pride, lust, and love all vie for top spot in his brother's eyes, and he isn't particular which one wins; they'll all ensure this night turns out how they both want it. Leaning in, Sam steals a quick, wet kiss from Dean and pulls back.

Dean interprets the move and releases Sam, before making a show of turning around again to face the inky paintwork of the car, dimly reflecting a streetlight from across the road. Stance open and hands on the trunk, Dean presents a blatant – not to mention mouth watering – offer to Sam.

Gathering a little excess lube from the base of his shaft, Sam then slides one hand down the cleft of Dean's ass before delving deeper and massaging a finger around his entrance. "Do you want me to prep you, Dean, or does that squirming mean that you're ready for my dick?"

"Goddamnit, Sammy," he grits out in a moan, "just fuck me."

"Mmmmm…" Sam rumbles as his lips attach to the back of Dean's neck, "exactly what I wanted to hear. Hold on to your baby, Dean." When Dean splays his hands on the trunk, Sam straightens and guides the head of his cock against Dean's hole until it breaches the resisting muscle, and he pushes all the way inside in one move. Dean's initial groan of discomfort spurs Sam on to pull Dean's hips back sharply until he can feel the tightness grip his entire length. Sam's answering groan has just as much emotion in it, and his eyes glaze a little at the exquisite feeling.

Dean feels the stretch and burn of Sam's urgent thrust inside but knows he will never complain about it; the sensitivity to the near-pain heightens the pleasure. The feeling is a parallel to what they both experience after a nasty hunt: the pain of their wounds and bruises letting them know they're alive. Not surprisingly, the sense of euphoria usually manifests itself sexually; although, a hunt is not the reason they are currently naked and having sex – essentially – in public.

Unable – and unwilling – to slow the pace to a leisurely fuck, Sam pulls back and drives into Dean hard, wanting to brand him the only way he knows how. His hunger makes him want to overpower Dean and show him who he belongs to. Groaning, he picks up the pace. "I'm gonna fuck this beautiful ass of yours so hard," he grinds out, in between thrusts. "For the next twenty four hours…every time you sit…you're gonna remember…how good it felt…to be filled with your brother's cock."

"Oh god, fuck yeah…fuck me hard, Sam," Dean responds roughly, reaching a hand behind him to grab Sam's hip, urging him on.

"Lean on your elbows, Dean."

Dean follows orders and lowers his elbows onto the trunk. As Sam thrusts again, Dean reaps the benefits of the move as Sam hits his prostate dead-on, and he cries out at the brief but intense pleasure. _He always did have good aim_, his brain helpfully provides.

With his hands firmly on Dean's hips, Sam rams his cock home, again and again, continuing to hit that button, and revelling in the needy words and sounds coming from Dean's mouth. He needs Dean to feel as desperate as he is, to feel like he can't breathe properly until he has fucked every last bit of energy from both of them; until they're both boneless with completion.

"Oh god, Sammy…uhh you feel so good." Turning his head to look over his shoulder, he watches his little brother slamming into him.

Sam leans forward as he continues to pump into Dean, and whispers urgently in his ear. "You should see my view, Dean; my cock ramming your perfect, tight ass. Part of me wants to fuck you hard enough to hurt you, but I won't, because I intend to fuck you again tonight." Then, with a sudden urge to feel Dean's come all over his hand, Sam moves one hand to Dean's cock and squeezes him firmly, before starting to stroke him hard and fast. His hand concentrates solely on Dean's shaft, continually stopping short of his cock-head, which makes Dean drop his head between his shoulders and whimper in frustration.

As a result, Dean ripples his muscles around Sam's pistoning cock, trying to make Sam lose control and get them both off at the same time.

"Ahhh, fuck, Dean, you play dirty."

Dean was ready with a reply but it is forgotten the second Sam stops teasing his dick and gets serious. Sam alternates his thrusts and strokes, which allows Dean to push his ass back and then rock into Sam's hand. "Fuck, Sam, so close," Dean moans.

Sam's thumb and index finger constrict over the sensitive nerves at the ridge of Dean's cock, before pulling over the head, and back down to repeat the process. After a few more strokes, Dean's movements become more frantic and, seconds later, he cries out, erupting over Sam's hand. Not giving Dean a chance to recover, Sam continues to pound into him while milking the last of Dean's release.

Seconds after hearing an approaching truck, they hear the vehicle braking and realise that they are about to have company. The truck appears a moment later as it pulls into the rest stop in front of them.

"Jesus, come on, Sam, hurry up before we're spotted," Dean manages, thrusting back desperately. When Sam's rhythm doesn't change, Dean senses that his little brother isn't worried about getting caught but, although Dean is getting the fucking of his life, public sex isn't on his kink list.

Watching the truck as it slows to a stop, fifty yards in front of them, they both wait for the moment that the brake lights darken.

Sam's brutal thrusts continue to hit Dean's prostate, and he moans uncontrollably. "Ohh, god, come on, Sam…fuuck…come inside me." Dean follows up that urgent plea with another tightening of his muscles around Sam's cock.

The combination seems to be the last straw for Sam, who groans and thrusts deep once more before holding himself still and shooting his load into Dean's ass. While he is still hard, he can't resist thrusting a few more times into Dean's tight, welcoming heat.

"Sam," Dean says with a harsh whisper. "Come on, the brake lights are out. We gotta go."

Sam comes back to himself then, and slides out of Dean as gently as he can. Still, he hears his brother's hiss as they part.

By unspoken agreement, they decide to quickly dress in just their jeans, and throw their boxers, tops, and shoes on the seat between them. By the time the driver of the truck opens his door, Sam has already put the Impala into drive.

Once they are back on the road, Dean is silent for approximately ten seconds. He then turns a little in the seat to look at Sam. "So, do you wanna explain what that was all about? Not that I'm complaining."

Without looking away from the dark road ahead, Sam shakes his head slightly as a small smile makes its way to the corners of his mouth. "I wish I knew."

Getting out of the car and following Dean to their room, Sam slowly pushes against his naked back, before turning Dean with a gentle suggestion of hands on hips. The key is quickly abandoned in the keyhole, its room number tag swinging freely for a few seconds as Dean waits for Sam's next move. Bracing his hands on the door, either side of Dean's head, Sam leans in to take his mouth in a slow, deep kiss, harnessing his hunger as best he can; at least for the moment.

Dean's hand grasps the back of Sam's head and threads through his baby soft hair in encouragement. He feels Sam respond enthusiastically by rocking his groin into Dean's, pushing them both hard into the door. The resulting moans from both brothers don't register beyond their private cocoon.

Detaching his mouth a minute later, Dean rests his head against the door as Sam moves to Dean's exposed neck, trailing sucking kisses down to his collarbone.

Cupping Dean's growing erection through the denim, Sam moves his mouth back to Dean's neck, just behind his jaw, and sucks. After a couple of inarticulate groans from Dean, Sam pulls back a little and gives a proprietary smile at the red mark at the surface of the skin, courtesy of broken blood vessels and Sam's mouth.

"Sam," Dean says a little breathlessly, as he feels Sam's hands move to undo his jeans, "do you really want to do this here, outside?"

Sam lifts his head and his hands still on the zip. "Yeah," he answers, seriously. "It's dark, no one's around, we can't be seen from the road; it's perfect for me to take advantage of my big brother."

Sam's lowered, 'gotta-have-you-now' voice affects Dean as much as the actual words. He then detours back to the conversation. "But what if I make noise?" Dean counters.

"Oh, you _will_ make noise; I'll make sure of it," Sam responds confidently, easing the tab of the zip down slowly.

Sinking to his knees, Sam licks around Dean's navel and then his tongue dips in and retreats. He does this a few times, providing a little re-creation of what he did to Dean's ass earlier. Judging from Dean's response, Sam knows he is thinking it, too.

Peeling the denim down over Dean's ass, Sam instructs him to open his legs just wide enough so that his jeans don't fall any further down his legs. Then, gripping Dean's hard shaft in his hand, Sam licks across the slit before closing his lips around the head to draw a little more precome from Dean. "Mmmm…all mine," he says, and takes the head beyond his lips and into his mouth. Sam can't tease Dean without teasing himself but, as much as he wants to reduce Dean to incoherency in record time, he deliberately slows his pace and concentrates on drawing as many dirty moans from his brother's lips as possible.

Pulling his mouth away from Dean's cock-head, Sam applies pressure with his tongue to the prominent vein and licks up his length, before attaching his lips to the heavy sac of Dean's balls and gently sucking on one at a time, providing extra stimulation with a constant but light graze of his teeth. When Dean's hips push away from the door and against Sam's mouth, Sam hears Dean's first dirty moan.

Sam's patience quickly tires of the teasing, and he guides his mouth back to Dean's weeping cock-head, then slides all the way down to the base in one, slow move. Sam holds himself in that position for a long moment and works his throat muscles so Dean can feel the rippling around his cock. Immediately, another dirty moan is wrenched from Dean's mouth as his eyes close, and he blindly reaches out for the doorknob, holding onto it as if it will be the only thing to keep him upright. At the same time, his other hand moves from the rustically-finished door to the back of Sam's head, no longer caring where they are and – frankly – who sees. "Jesus, Sam," he says with feeling, resting his head against the door and gritting his teeth against the dizzying sensations as his little brother withdraws and then takes him to the back of his throat again.

With his hands on Dean's thighs, Sam pulls his mouth back and looks up at his lover while teasing his tongue around the head. A squeeze of his thighs makes Dean open his eyes and look down. "God, Sammy," he says thickly, trying to resist the urge to thrust into his brother's mouth, "you look so fuckin' hot with my dick in your mouth."

Sam senses Dean's restraint and moves his hands to squeeze Dean's ass cheeks. Releasing his dick for a moment, Sam says, "Don't hold back; fuck my mouth." Then, with his hands on Dean's ass, he pulls him back between his lips and takes him in halfway, waiting for Dean's response. He doesn't have to wait long.

With a groan, Dean gladly gives in and holds Sam's head in place with one hand. Rolling his hips, his movements start slow, letting Sam get used to it; Sam has only done this once before. After only a few seconds, though, Sam's hands pull Dean harder against him as he takes Dean to the back of his throat again. Dean can't stop the moan from escaping. "Sammy," he growls, his desperation once again unleashed by his brother's hunger for him. "Fuck, Sam!" He says harshly, quickly escalating the speed of his thrusts, fucking Sam's mouth hard and deep enough to make him gag, and not caring anymore.

Sam feeds on Dean's cock with the same single-mindedness that he showed back at the truck stop, and Dean holds on for the ride as he continues to thrust against Sam's eager mouth.

"Fuck, Sam!" He says again (_'cause, Jesus, it bears repeating!_), looking down his body to watch his baby brother take his cock, over and over, into his wet, hot mouth.

Moments later, Sam's hands slide around to rest on Dean's thighs, again, and push him back against the door to still him. Drawing his mouth back, his lips drag over Dean's length and stop at the ridge of his cock-head. As Dean continues to watch, Sam's fingers wrap around the base of Dean's shaft and start to stroke him firmly down to his mouth and back. He then swirls his tongue all around Dean's sensitive head and suckles him hard enough that he has his badass big brother whimpering and groaning.

"Yeah, Sammy," he says with a groan. "God, finish me off, baby; make me come."

Continuing his assault with hand and mouth, Sam moans around Dean's cock, wanting to taste him in his mouth. A second later, he hears a thud and, looking up, realises it was Dean's head against the door. His mouth twitches in satisfaction and he continues to send vibrations through Dean's cock.

When Sam cups Dean's balls in his hand and squeezes, Dean's exclamation is a little louder than he would have liked but – again – he can't bring himself to care right now. His voice unsteady, he says, "Oh God, Sam, I'm gonna come. Take it, little brother; swallow me down."

Sam does just that. Dean's release floods his mouth and he swallows greedily, milking Dean further as he reacts to every convulsion of Sam's throat. When Dean hasn't any more to give, Sam pulls his mouth away and strokes him gently while looking up at his brother's expression. Another smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, but this smile communicates 'I'm not finished with you yet', and would have Dean on alert – if he were watching.

Before Dean knows what's happening, the door is opening behind him, but he's not falling back because Sam almost lifts him over his shoulder as he moves quickly inside the room. A few seconds later, Sam deposits Dean on the bed, none too gently.

"Get your jeans off. Now."

Sam's voice demands no questions, but since when has Dean heeded a warning? "You can't be serious, Sam. I'm as boneless as a freakin' jellyfish and I don't think I could…" He stops as he watches Sam drop his jeans to his ankles. The sight of Sam's impossibly hard, leaking cock has him reconsidering his earlier protest.

Sam has been short on patience since leaving the bar, which is why he isn't about to stand there, naked, and wait for Dean to stop staring at him and get moving. Taking matters into his own hands, he steps out of his jeans, makes it to the bed in two strides, and pulls at the legs of Dean's denims, peeling them off without finesse. "Move up the bed."

Dean does as instructed, and Sam is on the bed in a second, spreading Dean's legs as he positions himself between his thighs. "Jesus, Sam, did you eat batteries for lunch or something?"

"You complaining again?" He asks in return, bending Dean's legs and stroking the backs of his thighs.

"No, god no."

"Good," he says, reaching for the tube of lube on the bed.

_How did_ that _get there?_ Dean wonders for an instant, until Sam draws his attention again with a soft, breathy moan.

Sam proceeds to slick himself while watching Dean intently. "How do you want me to fuck you, Dean? On your back or on your knees?"

Dean's previously flaccid – and completely happy – cock gives an interested twitch at those words, and he looks back at Sam just as intently. Then, with the beginning of a cheeky smile, he answers, lowering his voice. "I want to see your face when you come inside me, little brother. That good enough for you?"

"Oh yeah," is Sam's answer as he lifts Dean's legs up to lean against his broad shoulders, and pushes forward, opening Dean further. With one hand on Dean's wakening cock, and the other on his own flesh, he positions himself at Dean's entrance and slides home.


End file.
